#don’t we love them

[baggy-holmes]

.

[chaotic-orphan]

Bad Superhero, part 2:

Read part one here

*~*~*~*~*

Mr Achates dragged Civilian through the trees, mind in a flurry, branches snapping beneath them in a rush. When they got to Mr Achates cottage, Banjo was sleeping at the door, his head raising slightly and tilting.

“Good boy, Banjo,” Mr Achates said as the collie stretched and let out a whining yawn before walking over to Civilian and nudging his head against Civilian’s hand.

“Hi Banjo,” Civilian whispered, their voice so far away. Seeing their body in third person. Mr Achates opened the door for them and led Civilian to their small kitchen, pulling a chair out from the table and clearing a space on the table.

“I’m sorry about the mess,” said Mr Achates and Civilian just looked at them, trying for a smile and not even managing to turn their lips up for him.

“Don’t be,” said Civilian.

Mr Achates nodded stiffly, and rubbed their hands together in front of them. “Right so, tea?”

“Please.”

Civilian heard the kettle turn on and start to boil, their eyes unfixed and unfocused on nothing in particular, fingers casually scratching Banjo behind his ear. A steaming mug was set in front of them, and Civilian blinked, sitting back in their chair and looking at Mr Achates as he sat on a chair in front of them. A tray of biscuits on the table between them.

The thought of eating made Civilian gag. Their house was probably still burning and here they were drinking tea with their neighbour and his dog.

Their legs were moving before they registered it, and Mr Achates was there blocking them. “Hey kid?”

“I have to go… I have to kill Superhero. I have to go, I should be… I should be burning I should be with them.”

“I can’t let you walk out there.”

Civilian’s eyes were wide as a child’s as they looked up at Mr Achates, tears streaming down their spot caked face. “Please.”

“If you go out there now, you’ll die and Superhero will never pay for what they’ve done to your family. All they’ve taken from you. If you leave now I won’t stop you, but you’ll be giving Superhero exactly what they want.”

Civilian hiccuped a sob, wrapping their arms around their waist as their legs went from under them. Mr Achates caught them and the pair sunk to the ground together, Mr Achates running their hand through Civilian’s hair soothingly.

“I promise they’ll pay, Civilian. I promise. We just need to be smart about this, okay?”

Civilian nodded, another sob tearing itself from their chest. Snot and tears wetting Mr Achates shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“You’ll stay with me, and Banjo. I know we’re not much, but we’ll be like family. One made by unfortunate circumstances but hey, you kids were basically like mine anyways with how much I caught you over here. I’ll train you. Make you stronger. Strong enough to beat the best.”

Civilian shook their head, pulling back from Mr Achates, a fire burning in their eyes. “Not strong enough to beat the best,” Civilian said, voice raw. “Strong enough to kill the best. I want them destroyed.”

Mr Achates smiled. “You got it, kiddo. How bout we get off the floor?”

Civilian smiled, wiping their nose with their sleeve and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Didn’t make you tea for nothing, did I? Heals all wounds, Civilian. Time and Tea, mark me.”

*~*~*~*~*

Mr Achates training was vigorous and relentless, every morning they would run through the woods with Banjo, carving out trails and paths for themselves after a while making it easier to run on.

After their run: home for breakfast. Eggs usually. Civilian would go out with a basket following Mr Achates to his chicken coop. The first time Civilian had just stood there, expression blank but the basket shaking in their hands.

Civilian used to come here with older brother and younger sister. They would sneak in just after sunrise and steal some eggs. Mr Achates saw like he always saw, and the second week of doing it he opened the window. The three thieves froze as a small basket was handed out through the window wordlessly. The window shut before they could laugh or make an excuse or say thank you.

Now brother and sister were dead. Burned. Gone.

“Civilian. Hey, Civilian. Look at me. Look at me, it’s just the chicken coop.”

“Brother and— we—“ Civilian managed, but then broke down sobbing again. Mr Achates was at their side, walking them back inside and telling them it was okay.

“I know. Dammit I should’ve known. I’m so sorry, Civilian. You stay here. Banjo! Stay with Civilian. I’ll run to the shop, grab some bacon instead.”

“No,” Civilian said, their voice shaking. “No. We’ll have eggs. Please? Can we have eggs?”

Mr Achates worried his bottom lip, eyes sympathetic and soft. “Civilian it’s not a problem, I can—“

“Please Mr Achates. Can we have eggs?”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Civilian said with a sharp, clarifying inhale. Mr Achates nodded.

“Okay. Let me grab them. You stay here.”

Civilian gave him the basket and stayed in the house, arms around themselves, safe. Alive. They stood from the chair and walked to the small kitchen, filling the kettle and putting it on.

After breakfast Mr Achates insisted on teaching Civilian how to box. “Why don’t we just use weapons?” Civilian asked.

“Because weapons can get thrown from your hands and if you don’t know how to fight hand to hand, you may as well give up now.”

“I’m not giving up,” Civilian told him hotly.

Mr Achates just smiled and nodded, said: “I know, kid. Now put your hands up, make ‘em into fists. Here, like this. Thumb out. Protecting your face, and when they’re not protecting your face they’re either punching or they’re protecting your ribs. Trust me when I say getting winded is a bi—“ Civilian looked at him as he cleared his throat and said: “bad thing.”

After hand to hand combat it was lunch. After lunch they relaxed, had a shower. Mr Achates told Civilian that he would get them books so they could sharpen their mind.

“Someone like Superhero doesn’t go down with a halfwit.”

“What about school?” Civilian asked, eyes owlish.

“I don’t think it’s the best idea. Superhero thinks you’re dead. If we give your name—“

“What if I take your name?” The question stunned Mr Achates. It was summertime so it wasn’t something he had to answer right away.

“Obviously you can’t go to school here.”

“I know,” said Civilian. “I can go to the city school. The one Superhero went to. Learn all they learned.”

Mr Achates sat back in his armchair, just looking at the kid in front of them in awe. The determination in their eyes. The resolve in their mind so clear.

“In order to beat the best I have to be the best.”

Mr Achates just smiled. “Okay. You can take my name. Go to city school. I’ll look at getting you enrolled.”

“Thank you.”

The quiet politeness pulled at his heartstrings, and something selfish and horrid in him was happy that the kid was living there with him now. Filling the space. Almost like they were a child of their own.

“You’re welcome.”

[springmagpies]

*yelling coming from the living room.*

Leo: Percy! Come here Percy! See what I mean!

Percy: No, I don’t see what you mean!

Annabeth: *stopping in the doorway where Piper and Nico are leaning against the doorframe eating popcorn. * What’s going on?

Piper: They’re fighting over whose name would make a better dogs name.

Annabeth: They’re what?

Percy: Leo is a much better name for a dog!

Leo: Sit, Percy.

Percy: I’m right.

Leo: Percy, drop it!

Percy: I’m going to hit you.

Leo: Staaaay! Percy, stay! See it’s a great name for a dog.

Percy: *chucking something across the room at Leo*

Nico: *from the doorway* Fetch Leo! Fetch!

Percy: Ah ha!

Nico: Percy’s right. Leo does work better.

Percy: Boom! Nico has spoken.

Leo: What about Nico for a dogs name.

Nico: No.

Percy: Nico’s a cat’s name.

Annabeth: Cat.

Piper: So a cat.

Nico: Suck it Valdez.

Frank: *entering the room* What’s going on?

Leo: What about Frank!

Frank: What?

Everyone: Come here, Frank! Good boy, Frank. Who’s a good dog! Good job, Frank.

Frank: I’m scared.

[proxycrit]

(I point. Gently, in the voice of somebody who’s mind touched by the outer gods, i whisper truth in your ears:

Your honor the horses are now lesbians

(Anyways here’s the designs)

[frascospecimen]

Please hold transgender women dear in your heart this international women’s day. Love and respect the trans women around you please.

[ghostvibesonly]

imogen’s development from “i’m not like homophobic 😃 i’m an ally 😌💅” to “i don’t think i’ve ever liked a boy” is absolutely 10/10 no notes, exactly where i was hoping her character would go

[astearisms]

but it ain’t called love without a little tragedy 🍁

[letsplaythermalnuclearwar]

Homer!Odysseus and Epic!Odysseus would try to kill each other if they ever met

[unexpectedyarns]

I come across the same thing with “deg” = ten but “teg” = fair… when mutated “Doedd hynny ddim yn deg o gwbl!” = “That wasn’t fair at all!” We have the same word/spelling.

Maths wise, I think the corollary is that 10 is fair or to be fair is ten.

hello! i have a question about circumflexes (to bach? i think i've heard them called that. the little hats) more specifically about the one in dŵr. does it do anything? i'm learning welsh and am Confused

diolch!

Croeso! Yes, the idea of the to bach in Welsh is to lengthen the vowel sound, but it's not always needed if the word has unique spelling - if I say 'No I didn't', there's no to bach on the 'o' in 'naddo', because you know how 'naddo' is pronounced.

But, thanks to (a) mutations and (b) loanwords, sometimes you get words that are spelled the same, but different meanings (think of the English 'set (of chess pieces)' Vs 'set (the solidifying of plaster)' or any of the other definitions of set). So then we use the to bach to make the words clear.

In this case, the word 'tower' is 'twr'. If mutated (yr hen dwr) it suddenly looks identical to the word for water. So water is 'dŵr', and thus you always know which word you're looking at.

Of course, this is not always possible. My favourite example of this potentially tripping someone up is the day my husband was asked to translate the name of Swansea Tennis Centre. Canolfan is feminine and so soft mutates what follows, which means that produces Canolfan Denis Abertawe.

But that is literally indistinguishable from Swansea Dennis's Centre. Who is Swansea Dennis? Why does he get a centre? Oh, the jokes. So for once they ignored the mutation, and to this day it's Canolfan Tenis Abertawe

(I believe translators have to do similar footwork to avoid housing associations becoming the association of a man called Dai)

[ciderjacks]

despite Laios low self esteem making him think that if he’d been eaten, Chilchuck and Marcille wouldn’t have helped Falin,

theres a small part of me that thinks the reason Chilchuck stayed with the party and went back in the dungeon in the first place was because he didn’t want to leave Laios alone. That Laios was moreso the reason he stayed.

[teddytheartist]

Zukka for the win my guys

[morningsaidthemoon]

Excerpt from The Song of Roland, translated by Norma Lorre Goodrich (Medieval Myths)

[leahaart]

Let👏🏻them👏🏻do👏🏻drag👏🏻

[inklore]

can we bring back fun fics? ya know when they weren’t taken too seriously, where we were simply writing them to feel that ooshy gooshy feeling and laugh and feel. nowadays i feel like all that matters is how intense the smut is, and trust i love smut. i am its number one fan. but i feel like its become a means to popularity, only writing it because it’s following a status quo of readers who only care about fics when it includes filth. like its not wrong to want the filth. we all love the filth. but please bring back the silly little plots. give me one bed, give me unrealistic fake dating, give me a wild crossover with fandoms that shouldn’t work together but do, give me something crazy like aliens invading or dinosaurs! like all of those things can lead to tooth rotting fluff or shaky knees smut. just bring back the feels! the silliness! the reasons why we all stay up until all hours of the night devouring these works of art!!

[wistfullywaiting2]

The biggest misconception in the bsd fandom ever to me is people constantly portraying Atsushi as someone who trauma dumps excessively when he canonically barely talks about it at all.

The entire point is that Atsushi does not talk about his trauma he’s just constantly reliving it. He can’t escape the memories of his past so he tries not to acknowledge them.

He only mentions it when asked, either directly or when someone asks him to explain himself.

Atsushi doesn’t even give a cohesive explanation for what he saw while under Dogra Magra, he just apologizes to Haruno and Naomi.

If Lucy hadn’t had her whole “you’ve never suffered the way I have” spiel then I doubt even the audience would’ve gotten to find out about his scars

If Akutagawa never asked him how it felt for the orphanage headmaster to die Atsushi would have never told him that he’s been hallucinating.

In the omake where Kyoka asks him why his hair is like that it’s clear he wouldn’t have told her that unless she had asked.

In 55 minutes Atsushi very briefly mentions sleeping on a dirty floor somewhere to Kunikida because he was trying to explain and justify his behavior.

And the thing is there are scenes that implies the other characters see Atsushi behaving strangely and are visibly confused because they do not understand what’s wrong with him.

Remember, we as an audience get to see things about characters that the main cast doesn’t. Just because we see into Atsushi’s mind doesn’t mean the other characters know what’s going on in there.

[jellydragons]

been watching a lot of hermitcraft recently and am happy to report that i am hopelessly endeared by these little goobers 💕 they’re like bugs to me

close ups under the cut!

gonna be real this was absolutely just me taking the opportunity to get my grubby lil mitts all up in their character designs lol i heart interpreting mc skins